Riding for Oysters

One thing that I find very difficult about being out of shape is dealing with the memory of being in shape.

There is a joy in confidently running six miles that is hard to find or remember when a 2 mile trot feels like you’re having a coronary and keeps you sore for days. With biking, it’s hard for me not to think of days on the open road busting out 80 miles full loaded, when I need to get off my bike to push it up the littlest hills.

Demoralizing to say the least.

When I got the call to for a spin this weekend, I was nervous. My pals (and Victor) are on their bikes for commuting. I’d be dragging them down and they’d be waiting at the tops of hills while I cried, cursed and waited for the bus to pick me up. Ah, what horror of horrors: Bikenerd Collapsed!

As it turns out, our spin along the beach at Alki wasn’t so bad. The hills not so torturous, and while, yes, they were faster, they were kind. Our plan was exquisite for a Sunday afternoon: eat croissants at Bakery Nouveau after checking out Water Polo at Colman Pool, and then get a dozen oysters for each of us to grill with the box of Alaskan Amber we had waiting at home.

It was the kind of day you love your bike more even if you’re not riding like you used to.